


Self-Control Wasn't Part of the Super-Serum Package

by abelrunner



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A little, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And then it goes back to stupid fluff, Bottom!Bucky, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, towards the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 20:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1700708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abelrunner/pseuds/abelrunner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve would love to be able to finish a sparring match with Bucky, but Bucky has other ideas about what is a proper use of their off-time. Steve doesn't argue much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self-Control Wasn't Part of the Super-Serum Package

If Bucky was going to be honest with himself, he’d admit that fighting-becoming-fucking was sort of a theme in his life.

Not verbal fighting (well, not _just_ verbal fighting…), but sparring. It happened all the time with Natalia ( _Natasha?_ ) back in the Red Room, though obviously they weren’t able to just start fucking on the mat like he and Steve are able to. Were able to. After Steve realized there were security cameras in the Avenger Tower gym, that kind of impromptu liaison wasn’t an option anymore.

Didn’t mean Bucky couldn’t take advantage of the fact that Steve was just as turned on by Bucky fighting as Bucky was turned on by Steve.

“Buck, I’d really like it if we were able to get through one sparring match,” he said, color high in his cheeks. “Just one.” Bucky laughed.

“Then focus,” he said cheerfully, rolling his mechanical shoulder to get out the kinks. “Have some self-control, Captain.” Steve bristled, and Bucky smirked inwardly. He was so easy to work up.

Which was exactly why Bucky loved sparring with him. 

It started out simple enough, just basic punches and kicks, blocks and dodges. Under normal circumstances, Bucky wouldn’t be out of breath from the sparring, but watching Steve was… something else entirely. Something glorious and beautiful. 

It was also extremely distracting. Steve nearly got in a good punch after Bucky spent a few seconds too long admiring Steve’s ass.

“Focus,” Steve chided. Then, “Have some self-control, Soldier.” 

Bucky grabbed Steve’s arm and swung him around, bringing him down on the mat hard. He brought his face down close to Steve’s close enough to smell the mint toothpaste on his breath, to see his pupils dilate sharply. 

“Do not. Call me that.” Bucky breathed, and watched Steve swallow hard.

“I’m sorry.” Steve said quietly, carefully, and as he straightened up, Bucky realized that his hand was closed around Steve’s throat, not quite pressing down but still there, a silent threat. “Do you want me to go?” Steve asked, and Bucky shook his head.

“Now I definitely want to punch you,” he said, doing his best to sound calm and teasing. Steve grinned, but there was still an apology there. “Besides,” Bucky continued, grinding their hips together slightly and tightening his grip on Steve’s throat just enough make his gasp a bit more difficult. “There are other ways for you to apologize.” Steve laughed, but it was a little too airy to be collected, and the grin on his face held promise.

“Spar first.”

“As you wish.” 

\--

Bucky shoved Steve against the bedroom door, pressing up against him and licking a line from the collar of his shirt to his jawline. Steve wrapped one arm around Bucky’s waist and gripped Bucky’s hair with the other hand, tugging with just enough force to make Bucky growl against Steve’s throat.

The arm left Bucky’s waist and he heard Steve fumble at the doorknob. He kept licking and sucking at Steve’s throat as the door opened and they stumbled into the bedroom. Bucky tugged at Steve’s shirt, and the two of them tugged it off, baring chiseled muscles.

“It’s not even fair really,” Bucky muttered, running his hands over Steve’s chest. “It’s ridiculous.” Steve laughed.

“Weren’t complaining earlier,” he teased, and Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“Not complaining now, just saying,” he said, shoving Steve back onto the bed. Steve let himself fall backwards and grinned up at him. “You don’t even lift.” Steve leaned back on his elbows and laughed as Bucky stepped up between his legs, smirking. From his angle, he had an excellent view of everything, including Steve’s obvious erection tenting his shorts. 

Steve pushed himself up and sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist, pulling him into a slow, heated kiss, all sloppy with too much teeth. Bucky loved it

Suddenly, the arms tightened around Bucky and flipped him over so that he was flat on his back on the bed, Steve shifting his weight so that he was straddling him. Bucky grinned and bit his lip and watched as Steve’s fingers found the waistband of his pants.

“And you wanted to _spar_ ,” Bucky said with a breathy laugh. He kicked off his shoes, watching Steve stare down at him hungrily. “Isn’t this more fun?” Steve tugged away Bucky’s pants and underwear without answering, leaving Bucky in nothing but his sweat-soaked t-shirt. 

“ _Fuck._ ” Bucky gasped, his hips kicking up as Steve’s hands and mouth roamed, starting at his throat and moving lower and lower. Steve swung back and forth between roughness and gentleness, gripping with almost bruising force and kissing with a feather-light touch. Bucky bit down hard on his bottom lip, trying to keep from sounding too wanton. He wrenched his hands from their death grip on the sheets and ran his fingers through Steve’s hair, trying to be as gentle as Steve as he did so.

His grip tightened sharply as Steve’s mouth sealed on his cock, tongue swirling around the head. “Oh god, Steve, please,” he moaned, hips jerking up again as Steve’s tongue dragged up the underside slowly. “Please, please, _please_ -” Steve pulled away and up, framing Bucky’s face with his hands and kissing him slow and deep. Bucky could taste himself on Steve’s tongue, and he wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, grinding his hips against Steve’s.

“Come on,” Bucky snarled into Steve’s mouth, gripping and yanking on Steve’s hair sharply. “Come on, fuck me.” Steve bent down and bit sharply at Bucky’s shoulder, dragging a keening whine out of Bucky’s throat. “Fuck me, Steve, _fuck me!_ ” Steve pressed their foreheads together breathing hard, reaching out and scrambling for the end table. His hand fumbled around for a few seconds, then he muttered, “Shit… There was some right here...”

“You’re joking.” Bucky growled. “Some boy scout you are.” 

“Just give me a second,” Steve huffed before grabbing Bucky’s wrists and lifting them above Bucky’s head, holding them against the mattress. “No cheating,” he said, and the smirk on his lips shot straight below the belt.

“No cheating,” he promised breathlessly, and Steve nodded before hurrying off into the adjacent bathroom, leaving him to squirm impatiently.

“I have no idea why there are so many bottles of lube in here, but I suspect Clint might be involved.” Steve called after what felt like an eternity but what was probably closer to fifteen seconds. Bucky craned his neck to look towards the bathroom door.

“What?”

“‘ID Pleasure’,” Steve called, apparently reading the fucking bottle aloud because he was a dick and why did Bucky even bother with this punk? “‘Fill your intimate moments with a rush of pleasure, blah blah blah, the tingling feeling will send you spinning in delight-’”

“ _Would you please?_ ” Bucky snapped, and felt absolutely outraged when he heard Steve smother a laugh.

“But there’s also, ‘ID Sensation’!” he said loudly. “‘That wonderful spark of sensual pleasure will go into overdrive as you are engulfed in the flames of-’”

“Steve Rogers, if you don’t come in here and fuck me, I will just finish myself off and leave.” Bucky said firmly. There was a pause. 

“Normal lube it is.” Steve said meekly, and came back into the room looking suitably chastened. He settled between Bucky’s legs and pushed them up and apart. Bucky gripped the pillow and moaned as Steve’s fingers pushed inside, stretching him out slowly and gently. Normally, he would beg Steve to be rougher, harder, faster, but something about the care made him melt. A third finger slipped inside and ran over his prostate and he writhed.

“Steve,” he gasped, orgasm starting to build and build as one hand held his hips down and the other twisted sharply to a different angle, wrenching out another moan. “G-gonna fuck me yet?” He asked. He tried for a dry tone, but it ended up something more like a plea. Steve chuckled, and Bucky didn’t know whether to kick him or kiss him.

“I don’t know…” He said, fingers sliding in and out, stretching and rubbing. “Might be fun to see if I can make you come like this. Don’t you think?” Bucky closed his eyes and sort of let go, let the pleasure wash over him. “Hm?”

“Yes,” Bucky hissed, gripping the pillow and feeling his lips twitch into a blissed out smile. “Yes, yes, _yes, yes!_ ” He came hard, come spurting onto his shirt and sitting there, hot and sticky, as Steve pulled his fingers out. Bucky slumped into a boneless puddle, trying to catch his breath, paying no attention to what Steve was doing until he felt him grip his shoulder and push inside. Bucky jerked, every nerve alive with hypersensitivity. Pushing himself up, he wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders and locked his legs around his waist as Steve pounded into him. 

He let out a loud moan as Steve came and bit down hard on his shoulder. They both slumped, arms still wrapped around each other, until Steve leaned forward and laid Bucky down on the bed before pulling out and flopping down next to him. 

“Woof.” Bucky rolled his head to look at Steve, who was panting and still beside him on the bed. “You should seriously consider going pro in that.”

“Might cut into the avenging business.” Steve replied breathlessly, and Bucky looked over to see him grinning with his eyes closed lazily. Bucky huffed. 

“Don’t go anywhere,” he said pointlessly, since Steve looked fucked out of his mind and totally unwilling to move. “This isn’t over. But first.” He heaved himself up reluctantly. “Must. Have. Water.” He got up and padded into the bathroom. He wondered if it was worth cleaning himself a bit, since he knew for a fact they were just going to do more.

“Shower?” Steve called. Bucky considered the suggestion as he turned the faucet and cupped his hands under the water.

“Good idea, Captain Small Ass!” Bucky said loudly with a grin. 

“Sam Wilson is a dead man.”

“Sam Wilson is a great man and deserves only great joy in his life.” Like Natalia. Bucky thought with affection. Sam had proved himself worthy of being Natalia’s fella a few months previously and they seemed… happy. Genuinely, actually happy. Which was almost as amazing as Bucky being happy. Former Soviet assassins don’t usually find good guys. Who could have thought they both would at the same time. 

“I don’t hear the shower running, Weiner Soldier.” Bucky paused, doing his best not to break. He broke. He laughed.

“Okay, that’s actually pretty funny.” He said, going over to the shower to turn it on. “But don’t tell anyone I laughed, otherwise they’ll think it’s okay to call me that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” 

\--

“Say, Steve. Can I ask you a question?” Bucky asked later, after a shower that turned into more sex, and then more sex. Bucky felt that off-time should be taken advantage of, and when it came to off-time with Steve, that meant sex. It used to mean workouts, but now it meant sex. He didn’t think it was a loss.

“Absolutely.” Steve replied, his fingers tracing little pictures on Bucky’s back. Bucky was turned away from him, eyes closed. He figured it might be easier on Steve if he didn’t have Bucky staring at him.

“Did we do this before?” It was a heavy question, and very likely to scare Steve off. Not permanently by any means, but for all his openness during sex, Steve seemed to find it weirdly difficult to talk about particulars about their relationship during the period that Bucky couldn’t quite recall. Bucky couldn’t even begin to dissect what that meant. Steve was very encouraging when Bucky remembered the odd event, and could go on for ages about Coney Island, but ask him a straightforward question about whether or not they had sex and it was awkward silences and abrupt subject changes.

True to form, Steve didn’t answer immediately and his fingers stilled.

“Before what?” He asked. _Oh, that’s how it’s going to be, is it?_

“Before this.” Bucky said, lifting his mechanical arm and wriggling the fingers. In the quiet, the soft whirrs and hums of the machinery were almost loud. He still didn’t look at Steve. He remembered how much he hated being stared at early on in his recovery and tried to afford the same courtesy to other people.

Steve said nothing for a very long time, so long that Bucky started to think that maybe he was just going to ignore the question entirely. He considered the possibility of letting Steve off the hook, but decided against it. This was bothering him.

“No.” Steve said quietly, after what was probably about another seventy years. “We didn’t.” Bucky frowned.

“Are you sure?” He asked. Steve shifted next to him and the touch of his fingers on Bucky’s back disappeared.

“I think I would remember something like that. Why?” Bucky’s throat closed up a little. 

_Because I remember staring. I remember looking at your fingers and wondering what it would feel like with them inside me. I remember wanting to tug your shirt away from your shoulder and just bite. I remember dreams and fantasies and a thousand other things and I can’t imagine not acting on them._

Maybe he was giving Steve too much trouble for not being able to talk about their past relationship. He sure as hell wasn’t saying any of that without a fight.

“You seem pretty good at it.” He said instead, turning his head and shooting Steve a grin. The grin faded though, because Steve wasn’t grinning back or even looking at Bucky. He was staring off into space, looking thoughtful.

“I wanted to.” He said, and Bucky raised his eyebrows. “I wanted… you. Back then. But, um…” He laid back and stared at the ceiling. “I didn’t… know.”

“Know what?” Bucky asked softly.

“If you felt that way. About me. About guys. Hell, I… almost told you. Once or twice. But I chickened out. Kept thinking of all the scenarios where I’d wake up with a black eye in an empty apartment.” He laughed like that was a joke, but it was so forced that each laugh was like a blow to the heart, a knife in the gut. Bucky resisted the urge to reach out and touch, reassure. 

Steve talking about this stuff was like coaxing a baby deer out of the woods. Move too quickly, and he’d bolt.

“You figured it out.” Steve continued. “Well. That’s actually giving you a bit too much credit.”

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Bucky asks, pushing himself up on his elbows to glare down at Steve. Steve grinned up at him, and it was realer than the laugh but still too sharp, too sad. Bucky had to retreat to avoid just kissing him.

“The neighborhood we lived in. What do you remember about it?” Bucky frowned at the subject change and said nothing. “Tony and Clint act like I’ve never seen a gay man before. You should have been here for the first few months after I moved in. Gay porn everywhere. They should look up the neighborhood we lived in and learn a little about the gay community of Brooklyn.” Bucky stared, and Steve finally, _finally_ smiled, really smiled. “We were walking distance from Sands Street and 7 Middaugh Street. Gay bars and drag queens… Tony’s head would probably explode if he realized how much time he wasted pasting my walls with stuff I’d already seen.”

“I used to go to them,” Steve continued, and Bucky’s heart damn near stopped in his chest. “I didn’t tell you at first. Like I said, didn’t know how you’d react. I mean, I thought I knew, but…” Steve’s expression went a little flat. Bucky tucked his hands under the pillow. “But yeah. So I used to tell you I was going to go draw and go to one of the bars. Plenty of nice people there.”

“No shit.” Bucky said dryly, and Steve grinned. “You get lucky?” Steve turned his head and looked at him with a grin that went from wide and open to razor sharp and filthy.

“What do you think?”

“I think all the boys fell over themselves to touch you.” Bucky breathed, and Steve looked at him for a long moment before shrugging and looking away with a wry expression.

“I wasn’t a virgin,” he said. “I was just polite. And terrible at talking to dames. I’m getting better though. Guys are still easier. Probably because of you.” He grinned up at the ceiling before pausing, the smile sliding off his face.

“You caught me one night. I lost track of the time and you went out to find me. You thought I was off drawing a sunset and found me pressed up against a wall with another guy outside of some bar a few blocks away from the apartment.” Steve let out a little breath, a sound that might have been a laugh. “You thought… must have thought he was beating me up or something worse because you dragged him off me, looked ready to kill him. It took a bit for you to get that it wasn’t, uh…” Steve swallowed visibly and lifted up a hand to roll awkwardly. “It was consensual.” Bucky tried to imagine thinking someone was hurting Steve, forcing him to do something he didn’t want to do. He tried to imagine it, but flinched away from the emotion the scenario brought up. He didn’t want to imagine how he must have felt. That sort of rage wasn’t productive.

“You were furious,” Steve said, his voice slightly strangled. “So angry. You grabbed me by the shirt and pretty much dragged me home. I didn’t know what you were going to do. The guy I’d been kissing, I saw him later and he said he thought I was gonna show up dead in an alley, you looked so mad.” 

“You got me home and you just sort of… didn’t talk for a long time. I kept waiting for you to explode and you just paced and paced.” Steve laughed again, and it was even sharper than before. “Thought you were just gonna pace right out of there.”

Bucky thought he remembered this. Maybe. A little. His heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears, and he was trying to…

“I couldn’t figure out how to say it,” Bucky said quietly. Steve went very still. “How to make you understand how fucking stupid you were being.”

“You started yelling. I thought I was ready for it but I wasn’t.” Steve continued, almost as if Bucky hadn’t said anything. “It was… scary, actually. I didn’t even realize you weren’t yelling at me about… what I thought you were until…” Steve sighed. “You were worried about me. You were always worried about me. You didn’t care who I was kissing but-”

“That bar would get raided at least once a month.” Bucky said quietly, hugging the pillow. “Like clockwork. And there you were, sticking your tongue down a guy’s throat right out by the street.” Steve went a little pick. “Not to mention the average joe that would have beaten you to a pulp if he saw, and you think the police would have cared? You were a fucking moron. Like you were trying to get yourself killed.” Steve’s face tightened into a weird, bitter little smile.

“Yeah, that’s what you said,” Steve said softly. “Just… louder. A lot louder.” The memory starts to build up, sharper, less vague and blurry.

“You started crying,” Bucky said, soft with horror. “Jesus, I made you cry.” Steve laughed, and it was real this time, not sharp and sad like before.

“You thought I was hurt or scared or something, but I wasn’t.” He said reassuringly. “I was… happy. Relieved. I thought you were going to leave, I thought that was the best I could hope for, was you just leaving. But you didn’t.” He turned to look at Bucky, and it was like looking at the sun. There was so much joy there, and other emotions that Bucky couldn’t quite place, and love. Bucky didn’t know whether to look away or never stop staring. 

He made a compromise of sorts and pushed himself over, pressing his lips against Steve’s in probably the most chaste kiss he’d managed in a long time. And it stayed that way, just a gentle press that didn’t become anything hot or filthy. When he pulled away, it was even worse. Steve was looking at him like he was the center of the universe, the most important thing on the planet, and Bucky didn’t know what to do.

“I wanted…” He started, then stopped. Then he resolved to press on, because Steve had ripped his heart out so it was only fair, really, only fair… “I wanted you. I did.” Steve stared. “But I was… God, I was terrified. I didn’t want you to get hurt, and you already went out of your way to get your ass kicked.” Bucky paused and remembered the fear, forced himself to dig to the bottom of it. “I didn’t want to be the one that got you hurt, or killed. I thought…” Bucky swallowed hard and Steve smiled again, gentler, kinder. His arm shifted and Bucky felt Steve’s hand tangle into his hair, fingertips rubbing against his scalp. It felt nice.

“Things are better now,” Steve reminds him. “People are… kinder. Maybe not necessarily kind, but kinder. We could even get married in some places, if we wanted.” Bucky grinned.

“Heard about that,” he drawled. “Should I go out and grab a ring?” Steve smiled, but it had less humor and more genuine excitement. Bucky would have felt bad if he thought he was actually leading Steve, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he meant it. 

“Usually, it’s a surprise,” Steve pointed out. Bucky scoffed.

“You’re impossible to please, you know that?” 

“I’m actually really easy,” Steve assured him. His hand is still running through Bucky’s hair, and the other hand comes up so that they’re both there, framing Bucky’s face. He stared at Bucky for a long moment with that same expression that made something just under Bucky’s sternum slot into place. “I love you, you know,” he said, his tone deceptively conversational. “I have. For a really long time.” Bucky swallowed past the lump in his throat and nodded.

“I know,” he said, his voice sounding weird and thick to his ears. He smiled and hoped half as much love showed on his face. “I love you too.” He paused, and then added, “Punk.”

“Jerk.”


End file.
